Chapter Text
The takeoff part isn’t so bad, Eren thinks to himself. It’s smooth, gradual, like they’re gliding into the air as naturally as a very heavy solid manmade object possibly could.
At least, that’s what Eren thinks when he presses his nose to the glass of the inside of the airport and watches the flight from Gate 37 traverse the runway and takeoff into the sky. He’d been doing this for the last forty minutes or so and refocuses his gaze to another airplane that seems to be coming out of Gate 42…
“Eren,” Levi calls from behind him, and Eren turns to see him sitting on an airport chair like a normal person, crossed legs and tapping methodically on the laptop he has on his lap. “Get your ass and your luggage over here or you won’t get a seat. You’re just lucky we got here three hours before our flight.”
“Yeah, but airplanes are quite beautiful, aren’t they?” Eren says distractedly, jabbing his finger to the glass at the airplane of Gate 42 turning around a bend on the runway.
“Are they? I’ve only heard you say that about fifty times today,” Levi surmises.
“I see them go by all the time on my way to school. My campus is right by the airport, you know. They get so close, like they’re flying right over your head. It’s a bit scary.”
“I know,” Levi replies absentmindedly because he has no time for Eren’s random jabber. He takes out his wallet to sift through the familiar bills among the foreign ones. “I’m going to get us some food. Do you want to come with or do you want to stay and save our seats?”
“I want to come!”
“Never mind. You’re staying here because that vulture couple over there looks like they’re getting ready to pounce on our seats.” Levi gets up, pocketing his wallet, and Eren pouts.
“They do not.” Eren side-eyes them.
“They do, too.”
Levi walks away, saying something about burgers and fries, and Eren drags himself over to Levi’s seat surrounded by piles of luggage on either side. He places Levi’s laptop case on top of his lap and sinks into the seat, thinking about how they’re hogging up four seats with all of their stuff being up off the floor when really they could have made do with just hogging two seats for the both of them. No wonder the couple over there is so pissed. But explaining this to Levi would just get him another rant about how airports have diseases from all over the world and their luggage should be up and off of the disease-ridden floor. Eren couldn’t argue with that.
He would think that Levi would be used to it by now, having been on a plane more times than Eren can count. Levi is very well-travelled and Eren, well, had never been out of the country. There was more than one opportunity to, don’t get him wrong, like during his high school’s graduation trip to that place somewhere in South America or to Germany for his language course in second year.
But it had just never worked out. He’d found an excuse one way or the other.
“I’m visiting my family in France this summer. Do you want to come with me?” Levi had then asked him one day, as casually as one could be when inviting someone to meet the family.
Eren had almost choked on the cereal he was eating that morning.
He would have to pay for the plane tickets himself, but the lodgings would be with Levi’s family, and really that was the only reason why Eren had accepted. That and the fact that communicating with Levi just by instant message for a whole month hadn’t seemed appealing at all.
He’s known Levi for years and not once had he ever gone back to visit the family. Eren almost can’t believe that the one time Levi does decide to go back, that he’ll be bringing back a guy. His family will probably misunderstand, if anything.
Apparently, Levi, too, has no idea what the implications of all this really means. Eren sighs in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him.
Twenty minutes later, Levi comes back with two bags from the nearest fast food place and a begrudging look on his face.
“That line was atrocious,” he mutters, shifting the bags to one arm so he can move the luggage on the seat, and Eren hurriedly takes the bags from him.
“What about the prices?” Eren asks, looking curiously into what Levi’s bought.
“Even more disgusting.”
He laughs and hands Levi back a bag once he sits down with a gruff sigh. The double cheeseburger that Levi always gets will cheer him up. He likes to eat it with the wrapper still on so he doesn’t get his hands dirty. But even then, Levi will still use a napkin in between bites and get up to wash his hands once he’s done.
“What have you been looking up?” Levi gazes at the screen of his laptop that Eren’s got sat open on his legs. “Aviation safety…” Levi enunciates slowly, reading the top tab. He looks like he’s about to lecture Eren on why he shouldn’t be looking up things that will only make him more paranoid.
“Did you know that people are more likely to die from a car accident than from a plane crash?” Eren blurts anyway.
Levi bites into his burger ravenously. “Everybody knows that.”
“So, why are people still afraid of airplanes?” Eren goes on, playing with the zipper of Levi’s laptop case instead of eating his own burger. “It makes no sense, really. They’ll condemn airplanes but then step right into their death machine of a car. And I’ve figured it out, Levi, I’ve figured it out. It’s because all you see on TV and in the newspapers are horrific plane crashes. They explode and kill everyone onboard and it’s so tragic, and sometimes they never even know why or how it happened. Sometimes they never even find your body. You’re just lost out in the ocean somewhere. Probably in pieces along with the plane wreckage—”
“Eren,” Levi says exasperatedly, putting down his half-eaten burger.
“Sorry, I just…” Eren can feel his heart racing already as he watches the plane from Gate number whatever getting ready to rev up along the runway. He shouldn’t even be here. He doesn’t remember why he’s here. The only reason why he hasn’t called for a taxi home already is because…
“I asked you to be here,” Levi says flatly, practically reading Eren’s mind.
His hand pries Eren’s off of the laptop case’s zipper before he can tear it right off, and for a brief moment Eren is completely distracted by Levi’s hand on his. Levi doesn’t seem to notice.
“It’s going to be fine. I’m right here. You’re right here,” Levi says, trying his best to be reassuring, and Eren breathes it in. “And we’ll both make it there in one piece, alright? If you want, you can sleep on my shoulder the whole time. It’ll be comfy. Now, can you eat your damn burger? Because I paid three times more for it than I should have and I know you’re not going to like the plane food.”
Eren can’t help but relax at that, even when Levi’s hand releases his in order to finish his own meal. He always knows just what to say, and Eren can’t deny to himself the only reason why he hasn’t called a taxi home yet is because Levi is here with him.
Eren closes the laptop and takes out the chicken burger Levi got him. “You better not go back on your word, about letting me sleep on your shoulder,” Eren teases.
“’Course not,” Levi answers. “What are friends for?”
That word hits a little bit harder than it should have as Eren slowly unwraps his burger, smiling sadly at it in his hands, and knowing that Levi has no idea Eren is taking advantage of his niceness.
-
Levi offers Eren the choice between both the window seat and the aisle seat, and Eren takes pretty much all of the time pre-flight switching back and forth.
“What if I get nauseous looking out the window?” Eren wonders, staring out the small window at the very clear and very close ground. It won’t be like that for long. “But the aisle seat means I can get up to go to the bathroom in case I do get nauseous…”
Levi huffs impatiently. “Maybe you’re better off in the aisle seat, then. You can still see out the window from there if you squint your eyes and lean over.”
Eren blinks. That does sound like a nice compromise. “Okay, I’ve decided. Aisle seat it is.”
He listens intently to the flight safety procedures that the attendants go through, even though Levi tells him that they don’t really have to listen.
“It’s necessary!” Eren spouts back, playing with the light and air buttons above them, and Levi rolls his eyes. Eren ignores him. “How else would you know to use the seat cushion as a flotation device in the event of a water landing?”
“Eren, I’ve been on an airplane so many goddamn times. I could recite the whole handout to you.”
If anything, Eren just needs a distraction. “Prove it,” he challenges.
And Levi does. With astonishing professionalism.
He locates the nearest plane exits before the stewardess does, explains the drop down oxygen masks with a worrying amount of detail (Eren had to make sure Levi never seriously used it before), and while Eren is just trying to keep up, all he can do is be fascinated with Levi’s vast knowledge of airplane safety. He just can’t help but watch as Levi goes on with varying amounts of enthusiasm and hand motions despite looking like he’s becoming annoyed even at himself for knowing this much.
“Thanks,” Eren says, smiling softly to himself when Levi finishes. “I feel safer already.” And he really means that.
Levi makes an amused sound. “You’re probably the only person ever to feel safer after listening to different accident procedures.”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
It’s mostly due to the fact that Levi will do just about anything that Eren asks him to, and it does a number on his heart, makes him feel a bit giddy and privileged, far more so than any of the people flying first class.
“Woah!” Eren immediately grabs Levi’s wrist beside him without thinking and stares straight ahead, feeling the whole plane rumbling. “Are we moving? Are we flying?”
Levi twists his arm so he can rub a thumb into Eren’s palm. “We’re not flying yet. Just moving to the runway.”
“Oh.”
He can’t bring himself to move. Levi has a hand on his, they’re almost holding hands. Eren wants to wretch himself out of it because it’s making him more anxious than the actual airplane, but there’s something that always stops him.
It’s just feels too nice.
“Just pretend we’re on the subway or something,” Levi tells him, rubbing soothing circles into his palm that don’t do anything to calm him down. “Close your eyes.”
Eren does.
But he can’t seem to focus on anything except for Levi touching him. He feels guilty.
It’s not like this has never happened before, though. Like there was that one time when they were both reaching for the steak sauce at the same time when they were eating out at some dingy family restaurant. There was also that other time when Eren had thrown up at an amusement park after riding a terribly steep roller coaster and Levi had patted his back all the way through it. Eren could tell Levi wanted to stay fifty metres away from him at that point, but he’d stayed with Eren the whole time.
And maybe Eren is simple, taking enjoyment out of every little thing, and falling for Levi over things that aren’t worth falling over. But he just can’t help it. He’s gotten addicted to the way Levi makes him feel over the littlest things and there’s no way Eren can properly explain it. Not even if he wanted to.
Eren’s not sure if him going on this trip is supposed to make Levi realize anything. It’s not. Eren had wanted to go because he didn’t want Levi to go all by himself. And maybe he also couldn’t say no to him, either.
Eren opens his eyes when his body suddenly feels weightless, and he turns to the window to see the ground almost diagonal.
“Levi, we’re flying!” he yells excitedly over the noise of the airplane. “Oh, it’s so cool…”
“What happened to closing your eyes?” Levi calls back. He’s got his own eyes closed, like he was sleeping before Eren decided to yell right at his face.
The ground descends beneath them, and they get higher and higher until the cars and the buildings look miniature.
Eren doesn’t realize how far he’s leaning over and how hard he’s gripping Levi’s hand until he feels fingers lace through his. It makes his heart stutter briefly, to the point that he almost misses what Levi has to say next.
“When are you going to tell me?”
But Eren is confused at that, thinks he might have misheard because the noise from the airplane is still so loud and deafening and Levi had said it so quietly. Eren’s not quite sure what Levi’s referring to.
“What?”
But when he looks towards Levi, Eren sees him staring out the window with an unreadable expression now that they’re heading above the clouds.
“You look like you’d be better off in the window seat after all,” Levi says instead, still not letting go of the hold he has on Eren’s hand. “We can switch seats once the seatbelt sign turns off and the plane goes into cruising mode.”
Eren is sure that’s not what Levi meant to say before, but he figures he can always ask about it later when it’s not so loud and they’re safe on ground-level again.
For now, Eren says, “Sure” and lays his head on Levi’s shoulder. But he doesn’t close his eyes. He stares at their hands intertwined together.